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:iconpsychochild21: More from Psychochild21


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Submitted on
June 19, 2004
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I look at my reflection, what do I see?
A dark painted portrait,
longs to be free.
The scars in my vision
shadow-rimmed face.
I breathe eternal, eternally chased.
My soul is disfigured,
cold hands, are unclean.
So close to fiction,
too close to be seen.
Scented and painted,
but covered in blood.
Here in this ecstasy,
an all-natural drug.
Perfect pale white skin,
Impurities run deep.
My own body dead now,
for my new soul to keep.
Covet the darkness,
and burn in the light,
Here I shall remain.
Your child of the night.
:icontigerlilytori:
tigerlilytori Featured By Owner Jan 20, 2005   Writer
i can relate to this, i have a piece very similar here [link]
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:iconpsychochild21:
Psychochild21 Featured By Owner Jan 20, 2005   Writer
Whee I like it. I love the how the stage referance.
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:icontigerlilytori:
tigerlilytori Featured By Owner Jan 20, 2005   Writer
you like what? if you're making a reference to my piece then heres a bit of advice and i dont mean this harshly....if you want comments then try giving some comments yourself....preferably on the deviant's own site, not yours. :)
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